Dances and Wishes
by Michie-ko
Summary: When an invitation to a Christmas stay arrives at Haruka and Michiru's house, old memories resurface and tensions arise.
1. Invitation

[Happy happy! Another Haruka/Michiru story! I like the way this one is turning out,   
though things will get weird soon.  
  
Haruka, Michiru, and Sailormoon belong to Takeuchi-sama, not me. Damn.  
  
Story by the one and only Michie.  
  
(huggles her Haruka-sama and Michiru-chan) They may be out of character, but they're   
still the ones we all love. Please don't be too mad at me; I'd never split them up though!  
  
Reviews are greatly greatly appreciated! Enjoy!]  
  
Pulling up into the winding driveway of the large mansion she shared, Ten'ou Haruka   
rolled down her window and took a deep breath. The air outside was chilly and crisp, but   
that was how it should be, after all. It was late December, only a few weeks until   
Christmas. Haruka was looking forward to spending the holiday curled up inside the   
warm house with the love of her life. She had the perfect gift picked out for Michiru,   
after all; though spending a quiet evening with her would be simply enough to keep her   
happy.  
  
She pulled the Ferrari up next to the mailbox and smiled. Painted with pink flowers   
spiraling up the sides, the mailbox was the only bright thing out in this colorless world.   
The flowers looked nearly real, at least until one reached out to touch the rough wood,   
but that was typical of Michiru's work. A stunning, haunting realism, whether it was in   
visions of the world's end or a delicately painted garden. Pulling the box open, she sighed   
as she pulled out the stack of mail that had accumulated over the past few days. That was   
what she got for not leaving the house for a while…she really should make a point of   
checking it more often.  
  
Pulling into the garage, Haruka turned off the engine and stepped into the house, mail and   
keys in one hand, bag of groceries in the other. Walking through the spacious entryway,   
she passed the sunlit sitting room. Gentle notes of violin symphony wafted out, dancing   
patterns inside of her ears. Noting that the tall French doors were closed, she glanced   
inside. Michiru was there, eyes closed, playing her violin, her slender body rocking   
gently with the music, as if the notes were carrying her on a wave. Haruka smiled gently   
at the scene before here eyes. Of course she wouldn't disturb her; Michiru would find out   
soon enough that she was home. Walking into the kitchen, Haruka put away the few   
groceries that she had bought, and then settled down at the table. Draping her coat over   
the back of her chair, she settled down and began to page through the mail.  
Phone bill, junk mail, a letter of thanks from the London Symphony Orchestra for their   
donation, various magazine subscriptions, nothing in particular caught Haruka's eye.   
Separating the mail into two piles, to keep and throw away, she came across a small   
envelope with fancy script on it. What could this be? Glancing at the return address,   
Haruka's face contorted into a mixture of anger and shame. Memories that shouldn't have   
been brought back up just had been.  
  
Viciously tearing open the pretty floral envelope, Haruka glanced at the letter inside. In a   
formal, calligraphic handwriting, the letter soon revealed itself to be an invitation.   
Disgusted, she hurriedly shoved the letter and envelope into the middle of her "throw"   
pile.  
  
Behind her, Michiru quietly walked up and slipped her arms around Haruka's chest.   
Resting her head on her lover's shoulder, Michiru glanced at the piles sitting on the table.  
  
"I heard you come in. Was the traffic bad?"  
  
"No, not at all. No one wants to drive in this slush, myself included."  
  
"But you did though! Thank you for doing that for me."  
  
Haruka smiled up at Michiru. It really wasn't that big of a thing to do, although the   
Ferrari would need a wash now. Anything to make her happy.  
  
"Eh, Haruka? What's this?" Michiru had caught sight of the flowery envelope, and   
reached down to pull it out of the growing stack of junk mail. Without thinking, Haruka   
slammed her hand down on the pile, pinning the envelope against the table.  
  
"Ah, well, it's nothing. Just a thank you letter from…from…"  
  
"Moh, you're not a very good liar! If it's a thank you letter, why not just let me see it?"  
  
Haruka sighed, exasperated. "Michiru, trust me on this one. It's best left alone." But by   
that point, the letter had already been pulled out from the pile. Scanning the invitation,   
Michiru's face lit up.  
  
"Haruka! Why don't we go to this? I still have yet to meet your parents, and I know you   
haven't talked to them in years, since they stopped paying for the apartment. Maybe this   
would be a great opportunity for the both of us to make amends. Besides, it is the polite   
thing to do…"  
  
"You really don't want to meet my parents. They're really not the best people, and   
meeting them would leave a bad impression of me."  
  
"Oh, you know I could never have a bad impression of you! I love you too much to do   
that! Besides, they can't be worse than my mother…never home or there for me when I   
needed support." She drifted back into a sea of horrible childhood memories.  
  
Michiru's mother was a curator of the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum. Since her father   
had never been there when she was a child, her mother had been her only support.   
However, with such an important job, she had hardly any time to take care of her   
daughter, only the money to support her. To make up for this, she had placed the young   
Michiru in lessons and classes of all sorts, ranging from horseback riding and swimming   
to voice and dance. The only lessons that had been enjoyable were the violin and cello   
lessons, taught by some of the finest musicians in the country. Strangely enough, Michiru   
had never been in art lessons as a child; she had discovered her talent through the many   
visits to the museum's galleries. Her mother, even today, was a busy woman, never   
stopping by for a visit or attending any of the couple's parties. Haruka had met her only   
once, at an all-too-rushed lunch meeting. It wasn't that she disapproved of Michiru's   
choice of a partner; it was merely that she wasn't involved in her daughter's life enough   
to care.  
  
"The only time she ever sent me mail was when I received money. No, wait, she sends   
me a card every year on my birthday, but only that."  
  
Looking at the pained expression in her eyes, Haruka slipped an arm around Michiru's   
waist and held her graceful form close. What if she had never met her; would she have   
continued with her unloved existence? Refusing to think about such a thing, Haruka   
turned her focus back to the crisis at hand.  
  
"I can't say that my parents weren't there for me when I needed them; more like they   
were there too much. They could never accept me for who I was, or am. Because of that,   
we haven't talked much. So, I'm fairly sure that spending time with them would be more   
painful for the two of us than spending time with your mother."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"They were never accepting of my dislike of men, or my preferences in, well, gender. It   
was my mother's dream to have a perfect little girl in a perfect little lacy dress, dancing   
with the boys, with dreams of becoming a bride and a mother. Obviously, that was only a   
dream."  
  
"Though, you are a mother, after all."  
  
Haruka laughed. "You couldn't even say that, more like a father figure to Hotaru.   
Besides, she doesn't even live with us anymore. She'll never meet my mother, I'll make   
sure of it. My mother…she never approved of my dangerous lifestyle, racing and all, and   
she'll never approve of you. Granted, she'll love you, the kind of woman that she wanted   
me to grow up to be. But as for our relationship, she won't be able to stand it. You're no   
rich young man, so to her, you don't deserve me.  
  
"And for my father…well, I'm afraid what he'd do to you. I mean, he's a nice guy and   
all, but it's just…"  
  
"Haruka…just once. The invitation says we can spend a week in their house, and attend a   
casual party on one of those days. It's one week, out of a lifetime. Besides, they did invite   
you, after all…"  
  
"But not you! I'm not going if you don't!"  
  
Michiru smiled. She was giving in. "Then I'll call them right now, or maybe you should.   
Ask them if I can come, and if they say yes, we can go spend the week."  
  
"Michiru…you know I can't honestly convince them to let us go together."  
  
"Please? For me? Consider it a Christmas present."  
  
Haruka sighed. She had already gotten a present for Michiru, but still… "All right, fine.   
But only for you."  
  
Michiru smiled. "Thank you," she whispered into Haruka's ear. With a light kiss on the   
cheek, she went upstairs.  
  
- - -  
  
The call was made, the deed was done. Haruka hung up the phone, and slumped against   
the wall. The loud, ecstatic voice of her mother still rang in her ears. Thinking, trying to   
block it out, she wandered over to the table and picked up the paper invitation. December   
nineteenth…that was only in three days. They'd leave that morning for the day's drive   
ahead of them, and stay until Christmas morning. Back at home, on the evening of the   
holiday, Haruka would give Michiru her present. Her mother had tried to persuade her to   
stay the whole week and leave two days later, but she had refused. Michiru would get the   
present on Christmas, and it would most definitely be back at their house.   
  
Climbing the winding staircase, Haruka wandered into the bedroom the couple shared.   
Curled up on the bed, Michiru sat with a cellular phone against her ear. Seeing Haruka   
walk into the room, she patted the bed next to her, telling her silently to sit down. Haruka   
gave her a weak smile and took a seat.  
  
"No, Sato-san, I'm sorry, I can't be your soloist on Wednesday, we have plans. I told   
you, I'd be glad to do it on the third, but I can't do it at all next week. Oh, I know! Again,   
I apologize for the problem. Yes, happy holidays to you too. Goodbye!" She hung up.  
  
"Who was that?" Haruka murmured, burying her face into Michiru's wavy head of hair.   
"A boyfriend?"  
  
"You know better than that," she replied, melting under Haruka's touch. "The director of   
the orchestra. He wanted me to perform a solo, but I can't."   
  
Bending over the slender woman, Haruka leaned down, gazing deeply into Michiru's   
eyes. "For obvious reasons…Michiru, why do we have to do this?"  
  
Reaching up and wrapping her arms around Haruka's neck, Michiru whispered softly,   
next to Haruka's ear. "Didn't I already explain it to you?" Haruka shivered gleefully as   
Michiru began to gently kiss her neck.  
  
"I know, I know…" Haruka breathed, tracing her hands down her lover's face, down past   
her neck, tracing her collarbone with her fingertips. Searching quickly, knowingly   
through folds of fabric, she found the top button on Michiru's blouse, and unbuttoned it.   
Moving more confidently now, her hands found the second, and the third.  
  
Please don't stop these kisses.  
  
And then, a thought, plain and straight through the beautiful passion, an arrow in the   
dark. Is this the last time the two of them would be doing this? Putting it out of her mind,   
Haruka focused on the moment at hand.  
  
[tbc]


	2. Suitcase

[Well, that took long enough. Chapter two, at last!  
  
I'm going to be going on vacation in a week or so. I might get chapter three up by then, but I might not, which means it won't be up for a while if I don't. Just a warning. Thanks for all of the supportive comments so far. This chapter is pretty slow moving, I wanted to get in some cute moments and build character before moving on with the plot. Trust me, it will start moving.  
  
Disclaimer: Sailormoon, Haruka, Michiru, and the others, are not mine. Though, I wish they were.  
  
Story by the one and only Michie.  
  
Haruka's a bit out of character, but it could be because she's nervous about the whole trip. Decide for yourself.  
  
As always, reviews are greatly, greatly appreciated! Enjoy!]

As the first rays of sunlight slanted though the light lacy curtains, Michiru stirred. A wave of cold hit her bare skin. Quickly pulling the white comforter up around her shoulders, she glanced at the glowing clock next to the bed. It was seven already? But then again, it was winter.  
  
Next to her, Haruka stirred. Glancing over at her lover, Michiru smiled. Haruka's skin was dark in the morning light, much darker than it was in reality. Although, she thought, Haruka's skin had always been the darker one of the two. How did she keep it like that, even in the dead of a snow- filled winter? She had always teased her about that, but then again, Michiru had always had pale skin to begin with.  
  
Pulling her body closer to her partner's, she let out a sigh of contentment. The warm, bare skin of their bodies pressed together, the heat coming from each other, warming them. An overwhelming, gorgeous feeling of belonging and love stirred in Michiru. She wouldn't wake Haruka, not just yet. After the shock of the invitation yesterday as well as the antics of the previous night, she needed all of the sleep she could get. Today was to be a full day of preparing for the trip, and she didn't want either of them to tire halfway through.  
  
Draping her arm gently across Haruka's naked body, she drifted back into dreams.  
  
- - -  
  
Slowly opening her tired eyes, she glanced at the window. Nothing was holding back that barrage of sunlight, not a cloud or a soul. Fully risen in the sky, the sunlight glared at her, forcing her out of her slumber, out of her deep dream. It then calmed, seemingly happy now that she was awake. It danced on her tanned skin, in her short, windswept hair; it kissed her tired face with a warm glow. And it soaked into her body, energizing her. It didn't care how tired she was now from the night before.  
  
A wind rattled the tree near the window, a hard cold wind. Immediately the sunlight left her skin, her tired body. She was exhausted; no amount of sleep could make her want to face the day ahead. Why couldn't this whole ordeal be over? The gorgeous sunlight moment, ruined by a harsh wind.  
  
Not the beautiful wind she aspired to become someday.  
  
Sitting up, Haruka realized she was alone in the soft white bed. Where could Michiru have gone? But this was expected; occasionally, she would make an early run to the store for something or another, or perhaps she had decided to wake up to paint the sunrise.  
  
Trying to stand up, Haruka was hit by a wave of exhaustion as soon as she got to her feet. Falling back into the white bed, she closed her eyes. So tired...  
  
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she opened her eyes, but made no move to get up. Turning her head to the side, she caught a glimpse of a flowing skirt, of a graceful limb. Taking a deep breath and sitting up once more, Haruka smiled. Michiru appeared at the doorway, with two plates of food. "You seem to be tired today! I brought you some breakfast."  
  
Glancing at the glowing clock next to her pillow, Haruka's eyes widened in shock. "You're kidding me, right? It's already noon?!"  
  
"Well, if you don't want it..."  
  
"I never said that!" Haruka took one of the plates and grabbed a piece of toast, taking a huge bite out of it. She smiled at Michiru. "Wow...thish ish good!"  
  
Michiru looked up from the pancake she had been cutting up. "I thought you'd like it. Be sure to try the eggs, it's a new recipe."  
  
"Whatever it is, it's guaranteed to be good if you made it!" Haruka gulped down a mouthful of orange juice and proceeded to sample the eggs.  
  
"There's only two days left to pack and get the house in order before we leave. We should start on that today for sure."  
  
A saddened Haruka slumped back into the pillow behind her. "Ah...that's right..." She sighed, nearly upsetting the plate that rested on her stomach.  
  
"Haruka! Be careful with the white sheets!"  
  
"Ah, well, I'm sorry, Michiru. I just haven't been myself this morning."  
  
"And could part of that be due to the announcement from last night? We're still going; we can't cancel out now. It'd be best if we put on a brave face and face your parents." She smiled. "Don't worry, I'll make sure everything turns out fine."  
  
"You really don't know what you're dealing with. These are my parents, for God's sake. There's no way you can say that you know what's going on."  
  
"Haruka..." Michiru began, but stopped herself. She took a deep breath. "Was your childhood truly that horrible?"  
  
"Oh, it was. Believe me, it was."  
  
- - -  
  
Sitting in the middle of the guest room floor (formerly Setsuna's room) was a giant black leather suitcase. Michiru was in the room as well, reaching upward toward the top shelf of the closet, attempting to get down the second, slightly smaller one. Sighing, she pulled over the chair from the nearby desk, climbed up on it, and hefted the suitcase onto the floor. Her fingernails had left marks in the brown leather. Sitting site by side, the brown and black bags seemed to be laughing at her silly antics. Putting the chair back where it had come from, she sighed.  
  
"I could have helped you with that, you know."  
  
"Haruka!" Michiru whirled around in surprise. "I didn't know you were up!"  
  
Casually dressed in denim and cotton, Haruka's shirt clung to her slightly damp body. Michiru suppressed a giggle as she noticed that the buttoning job had been off.  
  
"Eh, what is it now?"  
  
"Your buttons are off. Here, let me fix them." With quick hands and graceful fingers, Michiru unbuttoned Haruka's shirt. Catching a glimpse of a white bra and a whiff of expensive cologne, she proceeded to re-button it, correctly this time. "You'd think that the shower would have woken you up, but no, you're still as groggy as ever."  
  
"If anything woke me up, it was you just now," murmured Haruka. She pulled the smaller woman into a firm embrace that only parted after a deep kiss.  
  
"So where are you off to?"  
  
"Setsuna's place. I'm going to see if she and Hotaru-chan can stop in sometime during the week, to water the plants and all."  
  
Though the four had lived together for a short time after the battles had ended, the large house the couple shared was located quite a distance away from the city. With the start of Setsuna's own clothing line, she had wanted to live closer to the metropolitan area so she would be within a reasonable distance from her newly opened boutique. Hotaru had made the move with her, to be closer to her school and her friends as well as her Setsuna-mama. The spacious house seemed empty, but at the same time, was no longer so hectic.  
  
"Well then, I'll see you when you get home then. Oh, stop at the store as long as you're in the city and pick up some of those toothbrush holders. Be sure to say hello for me!"  
  
"I won't be long," Haruka announced, and headed out the door.  
  
- - -  
  
Alone in the house, Michiru flopped down on the guest bed and sighed. So much packing to do, and so little time. And, what could Haruka be so worked up about? Michiru knew that her relationship with her parents was immensely strained, but that was no reason for her behavior. No matter; she would make the best of it.  
  
"If we'll be staying over starting on the twentieth...but, we're arriving on the nineteenth. Although, I won't need to pack clothes for that day," she thought out loud. "So, six days worth, plus a casual dress to wear to a party. Of course, I'll have to bring nightwear, and clothes for various weather...but I'll find what I need."  
  
Dragging the black, bigger suitcase into the bedroom, she set it down on the floor outside of the walk-in closet and opened it. Shuffling through racks of clothing, she first found a black halter-top dress. The flowing skirt came just above her knee, and the higher neckline was made up for by the significant lack of a back to the dress. It was tasteful, yet elegant. Gently placing it on a sheet of tissue paper, she folded it up and packed it away. There; one thing taken care of.  
  
Two hours later, when Haruka returned, Michiru proudly showed her what she had accomplished. After much mental debate, she was fully packed for the trip, and had packed a suitcase for Haruka as well. With a quick glance through the clothes Michiru had chosen, Haruka sensed a pattern.  
  
"These are all...my nicest clothes. Why?"  
  
"Don't you want to show your parents a better side of you, prove to them that you grew up fine without their help?"  
  
"Well, all right, I see the logic in that. But at least let me throw in some more comfortable clothes, just in case."  
  
Michiru smiled. "All right. Just in case."  
  
[tbc] 


	3. Sports Car

[Just a few quick notes. Sorry for the lack of updates; I've just been busy. There might not be another for a while, but it will come, really.

Story by the one and only Michie.

They're not mine. Though, I like to have fun with them. I can't let Takeuchi-sama have all of the fun now, can I?

Haruka's parents will turn out to be very interesting, so stay tuned.

The song they're listening to is "Mars", from Holst's Planets suite.]

After a long day of more packing and preparations, the worn out Haruka slumped into bed. Without even bothering to take off her clothes, she pulled the fluffy white bedcovers close around her, settled her head down onto the soft pillow, and closed her eyes. What would have turned into sleep was interrupted by the light being turned on again.

"Michiru..." Haruka groaned, shifting her head into her pillow. "I'm trying to get some sleep. For the past two days, it's just been- "

"Packing and packing. Yes, I understand, but can you at least change into your pajamas? And your teeth won't get any whiter unless you brush them."

"What, change here? In front of you?" Haruka feigned disgust and turned away from the woman in front of her. "Honestly Michiru, I thought I knew you!"

Giggling, Michiru slid into bed next to her. Hanging up her silky aqua robe on the bedpost, she yawned and smiled at Haruka. "Well, if you really feel that way, I can leave..."

"Ah, well, you know I didn't mean that."

"But, did you? Don't worry Haruka, I won't look." By this time, Haruka was red in the face and Michiru was laughing out loud. Rolling her eyes, the taller woman slowly eased herself out of the bed, and staggered over to the oak dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, she grabbed a tank top and some short, loose cotton shorts. With her back to the bed, she began to remove her wrinkled clothes.

"Haruka. I can see you in the mirror."

Glancing up, Haruka noticed the large, nearly wall-sized mirror that loomed in front of her. Sighing, she didn't attempt to move away. "I give up. It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Ah, that's true. Besides, what is there to see, if I'm reading a book?"

Looking into the mirror, Haruka sighed. It was true. Michiru had her face buried in a book of poetry.

The morning dawned clear and bright. Waking up with the sun, which was unusual for her, Haruka sighed softly to herself. Today was _that_ day, the day the two of them left. Mentally running over the checklist in her head, Haruka started thinking up excuses as to why the couple shouldn't waste their Christmas over at her parents' house. After going through all of the ones she had used in the past three days, her mind simply gave up. There was no escape, was there? She was doomed.

Glancing at the clock, she fell back in bed. Just after seven in the morning. Michiru was breathing softly next to her, head nestled in her pillow. Quietly, Haruka slipped out of the covers, pulling the excess up around the sleeping figure beside her. Michiru stirred, and Haruka held her breath.

"Oh, Haruka..."

No! Don't wake up now! Haruka mentally reprimanded herself. Of all days to wake Michiru up, why today?

"...no. Haruka, those cookies weren't for you..."

Heaving a sigh of relief, she climbed the rest of the way out of bed and wandered downstairs.

The departure time the pair had planned on was around nine-o-clock. With Michiru's daily morning routine to take into consideration, as well as breakfast, Haruka decided that her lover had a good half-hour left to sleep. She hated waking her up, but since Michiru was the one who wanted to go in the first place, Haruka decided that it would be only fair if they at least left on time.

Her thoughts drifted back to her childhood, as well as memories that would best be left untouched. Lonely parties at which she always stood out, races not watched, expensive dolls not played with. And of course, her mothers constant nagging, paired with her father's frequent lady visitors. The only good memories she had were the hot summer afternoons spent in the garage with her father's mechanic, working on expensive Ferraris and Lamborghini convertibles, being helpful at a task she enjoyed. Of course, when her mother had found out, that was the end of that, and the start of horseback riding. Haruka smiled sadly to herself. In a way, that man had been her only true friend back then, as well as the father figure she'd never had, and a teacher to her. Attending his funeral two years ago had been a heartbreaking experience.

Pouring herself out a bowl of cereal, Haruka's thoughts drifted into the present. Moving out when she was fifteen into her mother's new apartment in the city had been the best thing that had happened to her. That was the same year she had awakened as Sailor Uranus, met Michiru, and saved the world. She couldn't say that it was the best year of her life, but it was definitely an improvement from the past decade. And, two years after that, moving away from the city and off of her parents' support, living with the love of her life, their best friend, and their child, all together in this pretty house out here. Best of all, they were paying for this house themselves. Michiru always complained about the cost of bills and the like, but Haruka couldn't have loved it more. She didn't need them any longer; she could live her own life in peace.

And then, the invitation came.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Haruka heard soft footsteps on the stairs. Whirling around, she noticed Michiru standing on the staircase behind her, her fluffy robe billowing around her long legs. Just a small corner of the elegant purple nightgown peeked out.

"You look better in lingerie," Haruka called up to the sleepy woman. "Especially the short, lacy- "

"Oh, shush! Have you had breakfast yet? We have to go soon, and, well, are we ready?"

Holding up the cereal bowl, Haruka beamed. "I really can take care of myself, honestly. Maybe I should be worried about you."

"Well, you could do me a favor by making me some toast, please. I'm going to go get in the shower."

"No fancy breakfast? All right. Toast it is."

The small sports car was loaded with the heavy suitcases, as well as a nice suit for Haruka that sat on top of them. Michiru, dressed in a warm winter coat, hunkered down inside of the vehicle, shivering, while Haruka slammed down the lid of the trunk. Sliding into the driver's seat and closing the door, she started the car and waited a bit for it to warm up.

"So...cold. Will it be like this at your family's place?"

"Probably. They live further up north than we do. They spend most of the winter inside, hosting parties, drinking champagne, and buying expensive French vases. On another note, it took you a while to get out here..."

Michiru gave Haruka a hurt look. "I was fixing my hair. Don't you want me to look nice?"

"Yes, of course. But only for me," she said confidently. "Besides, you look beautiful all of the time."

"Will you even like me when we're old and gray-haired?"

Haruka chuckled. "You know I will. You'll always be beautiful. Now, me on the other hand...you just might want to find someone new."

"You know that I would never do such a thing. We've been through so much together as it is. I like to think that we were meant for each other."

"And we're about to go through much more," Haruka muttered under her breath. She leaned in and gave Michiru a quick kiss, then drove out of the garage, down the winding driveway, past the beautifully painted mailbox, and out onto the winter road.

Driving past almost everything imaginable in the barren countryside, the little navy blue car didn't stop, didn't slow. Under its driver's firm hand, it climbed farther north, an hour, then two. Through cities, with huge skyscrapers, horrid traffic, and bright lights even in the day, to quaint farms blanketed by a soft snow, it drove on for a while.

Eventually, while stuck in traffic, the car's driver relaxed to talk to the passenger. For most of the ride, the two had been in silence, with the radio on quietly, providing nice background noise to the harshness of the city sounds. Switching the Holst off, the driver contemplated the slight lack of sound that filled the car.

"Drums..."

"Yes, plenty of them. It's only the first movement of the symphony though. In five-four time."

"Hm. Well, you would know, wouldn't you? I would assume you've played the piece."

"Then you would be correct. But, why did you switch it off?"

Haruka sighed. "Because, I want to talk to you."

"All right, what do you want to talk about?" Michiru replied, running her hand through her hair.

"You know I love it when you do that," Haruka smiled. Michiru brushed her wavy hair aside again. "Ah, traffic's moving. We should be there in no time."

Settling back into her seat, Michiru switched the radio back on.

The little sports car pulled up to the huge, imposing black gate. It glared down at them, like a beast with dark iron fangs. All to the sides of it, a tall brick wall ran around the edge of the property. It seemed to stretch off as far as one could see.

"This is it," Haruka announced, with a hint of sadness in her voice. "The wall looks so horrible in the winter... Now, where's the intercom?" She rolled down her driver's side window, letting a blast of chilly air in. Michiru shivered, but Haruka didn't even twitch. Pressing a small gray button, she bent out, searching for the speaker.

"Yes, who is it?"

"Uh, yeah. It's Ten'ou Haruka. My parents should be expecting us." Hearing the sound of static, she cursed under her breath. "Kouichi-san, is that you? Open the gate!"

"Ah! Sorry, Ten'ou-san. Your mother is...looking forward to your visit. It's been too long."

"Well, we can catch up later. Can you let us in?"

"Yes, yes! Sorry!"

Swinging open, the black gate made hardly a sound. Looking beyond it, Michiru noticed a winding stone road that curved off through what appeared to be a garden of shaped hedges. While the small car drove up, she noticed that all of them had been carefully pruned down for the winter. Straw was carefully placed over countless flowerbeds, and tall, perfectly groomed trees sat leafless in the gray nothingness. To her, it seemed a bit too much. The perfection was obvious; each patch of soil, plant, and tree was spread out in an exact symmetry. Nothing was out of place. It seemed that someone had taken much care to ensure that this garden was perfect.

"What one of your parents does the gardens? They look...well taken care of."

Haruka snorted. "Neither of them. Of course my mother wouldn't, she might dirty her hands. And my father's too busy with...business, I suppose. No, there's a gardener who they sit down with once a year to plan everything out. The garden is my mother's design, but the work isn't."

Turning around a bend in the road, the house came into view. The structure was huge, though not towering. The whole house was made of some sort of gray stone and had been built so that it was only two stories tall. It looked like something out of a picture book, or a house that you would find in Europe a hundred years earlier. Giant columns imposingly framed the front door, and large, heavily draped windows dotted the sides of the house.

The house the couple shared was a nice blend between the elegant and the modern. Sleek, metallic kitchen appliances blended seamlessly with vases of flowers and curtains of delicate lace. In a way, it was like the pair themselves: the modern, always changing Haruka with the graceful, gorgeous Michiru. But this house, however, looked like it was stuck in the past.

Pulling up to a stop in front of the main door, the couple climbed out of the small car. With feet crunching on the snowy stones, they walked up to the door and rang the bell. It seemed to echo through the whole house. With a sigh, Haruka waited to be greeted.

Slipping her hand through her lover's, Michiru glanced at Haruka. The tall woman had her jaw set in a forced look of determination. No matter what, they'd pull through this together.

[tbc]


	4. Cookies

_((I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Really! I've been horribly busy with school, more school, even more school, orchestra, and the holidays. But, I plan on finishing this story eventually. Hopefully by next Christmas, seeing how it is a holiday story…_

_Story by the one and only Michie._

_Haruka and Michiru are not mine. Though, I borrow them and play around with their families for a bit._

_I have a list of ways Haruka's father makes hell for Michiru, so now the only problem is picking the best (worst?) ones. And of course, there's Haruka's mother…oh, just read it._

_Reviews make me happy. A happy Michie churns out more chapters. See? It's easy. Just leave a quick note and some feedback. Ideas are always welcome too. I might just use yours eventually, seeing as how I only have a few days of their stay really planned out._

_Enjoy!))_

The large, heavy door creaked slowly open, and Michiru found herself gazing down at a short, plump woman dressed in a gray, simple dress. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and though her face was wrinkled, she didn't look to be over forty. Peering around the door, she glanced first at Michiru, then at Haruka. At the sight of the bigger woman, her face lit up and she pushed the door hurriedly open.

"Haruka-san! Your mother is very glad you decided to come. She should be coming downstairs…soon."

Gazing behind the short woman, Michiru snuck a peek at the house within. Polished floors, a large chandelier, and a table with cookies that appeared to be for decoration only were all she saw at first, but glancing farther back, she spotted a towering staircase, its railings curved intricately. The steps were covered with lush carpet, and Michiru could hear the soft pads of footsteps on it.

"Haruka-chan! Oh, I'm so glad you made it here safely! Come in, dear; let me get you something to eat! Yoko, can you carry her bags in? I'll have someone pull your car around as well…"

A thin woman, about Michiru's height, quickly stepped over to them. From her large pearl earrings, matching gold and pearl necklace, and cream-colored dress, Michiru assumed that this much be Haruka's mother. Her eyes were small, squinty almost, and they seemed to miss nothing, while her lips were a thin red line that was bright with lipstick. She didn't seem too bad, not nearly like Haruka had made her seem. Michiru giggled. She had never heard anyone refer to her lover like her mother had; not even Michiru herself, though she had lived with Haruka for years.

"Ah…don't worry about it, mother. I doubt Yoko-san will be able to carry all of our bags, and besides, I prefer to move my car myself. I can take care of it; just give me a few minutes," Haruka replied with a nervous shrug.

" 'Our bags?' Haruka-chan…" She swung open the door further, and looking around the maid, she finally spotted Michiru. Almost immediately, her face fell in a look of disappointment. Haruka frowned at her mother. She had explained to her that she was bringing someone very close to her. Sure, she hadn't explicitly said that Michiru was her lover, but still, one would have thought she could have picked it up.

"This must be your friend, then. When you said something about bringing a special person, I assumed that it would be…well, a man."

Haruka snorted. "I never said anything of the sort, mother. But I didn't lie when I said that Michiru here is very special to me."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself!" Michiru started. "Ten'ou-san, my name is Kaioh Michiru. I've been living with your daughter for a few years now, and I must say that she's a very wonderful person." Michiru tried her best to smile warmly, bow, and look pleased to meet this woman. This, after all, was Haruka's mother.

Forcing a smile, the elder Ten'ou woman looked at Michiru, and bowed in return. "Can I call you Michiru-san, dear? Please, for one of my daughter's good friends, feel free to call me Shioko."

"Mother, Michiru is a violinist. You've probably heard her perform with an orchestra or ensemble and didn't know it. She's quite famous, and talented."

Haruka could almost see her mother's opinion of her lover increase. The two women began chatting, something about string quartets and pricing. Taking the opportunity, Haruka slipped out the door to drive her car around back.

She pulled up around the same time her father did. He looked concerned as he climbed out of his car, not even bothering to inform his mechanic that he was home. Moving quickly and quietly, he was about to slip in the back door when he caught sight of Haruka unloading the two bags.

"Well, ah, hello, Haruka-chan," he said nervously. "I didn't know you'd be here by now."

"We woke up early, father. Where are you sneaking back from?"

"That-that's none of your business! Your mother won't find out I was gone, and you won't tell her either! Now, let me take one of those bags. I'll say that I heard you pull up and was going to help you unload."

Haruka sighed and handed her father one of the bags. He was probably off with another woman, doing things she probably didn't want to know. The man had always been gone like this, even when she was a child. Shioko knew nothing; to her, he was always away on business. It hadn't taken long for the young Haruka to put two and two together though. There was always a plethora of young women at his parties, he was always looking at women on the street, and his relationship with her mother was obviously not at the same level it was years ago. But, she promised to herself, she wouldn't let it get to her. The only thing that she really needed to worry about was keeping her father away from Michiru, which would probably be a challenge.

Striding into the main hall, the two set the suitcases down at the bottom of the winding staircase. The women walked over to them.

"Ah, Kenji! This is Haruka-chan's good friend, Kaioh Michiru-san. She's a famous violinist, and she says she knows some people to talk to if we want a string quartet at our party." Shioko smiled warmly at her husband, who by that time had noticed Michiru. The man was hardly paying attention to his wife; instead, he was staring at the young woman like she was some sort of exquisite dessert. Michiru was obviously unnerved by this, but she did her best to appear friendly, all at the same time inching away from him and closer to Haruka.

"It's nice to meet you, Ten'ou-san," Michiru said warily. She bowed slightly, never taking her eyes off of him.

"Ah, yes, of course. A pleasure, Michiru-san," he replied, giving Michiru an unreadable smile.

Sensing a need to break the awkward moment, Haruka slipped an arm around the smaller woman's waist. "We should get our things unpacked, so if Mother could show us where we'll be sleeping…"

"All right. Do you need help with the bags? Well, anyways, this way." She led them up the winding staircase, with Yoko behind them. Glancing back, Michiru was relieved to see that Haruka's father had gone off elsewhere. She didn't like the way he looked at her, as if she was some sort of delicious cookie or cake, and he was a starving man. Taking the smaller bag from Haruka, she followed the older woman up the stairs.

After walking through a small hallway decorated with large, expensive paintings, the four of them stopped at a white door. Turning the fancy knob, Shioko led them into the room.

The walls of the bedroom were a pale pink, and the plush white carpet felt like soft sand beneath Michiru's stocking feet. One wall was almost completely covered by a large mirror and vanity, with various drawers beneath. A plush pink bench was pulled underneath the counter, and the top was decorated with vases of flowers and glass bowls filled with cotton balls and swabs. Off to the left, the bed was white, with pink pillows and lacy sheets. The whole room smelled like someone had dumped a flower garden in one of the tall closets that lined the back wall. To finish the look off, white-framed windows, two of them, looked over the garden, covered only by translucent lace.

Smiling smugly, Shioko announced that this would be Haruka's room.

Michiru couldn't help but smile at Haruka's reaction. Her companion was obviously feeling nauseous from the overwhelming floral smell, not to mention the fact that the room looked like the kind of thing she would rather die than spend a week in. But there was no arguing with the older woman; Shioko had already begun showing the pair the connected bathroom, the expensive lotion on the vanity counter (which, the two learned, had been designed to hold makeup), and the handmade French lace sheets.

Down the hall was the second room. Upon entering it, Haruka immediately felt more at ease. Unlike the other room, with the overwhelming pink coloring and floral scent, this one was calmer, and more masculine at that. The shorter, harder navy carpet matched the cotton sheets, and the walls were a simple white. This room had no bathroom attached, and only had one closet. There was a mirror in the room, but it was a simple floor-length one, and wasn't lit up.

The room smelled like clean laundry- clean socks, even, Michiru thought- and the scent wasn't overwhelming. The whole room itself seemed like a better fit for Haruka than any other place in the house.

The elder Ten'ou explained that there was a small bathroom right across the hall, and that there was everything Michiru needed in it: lotion, shampoo, cotton swabs and the like, though she had been sure to bring her own. Shioko then apologized, saying that she wished she had a nicer room for the violinist, because she had assumed that Haruka's "friend" would be a man. All Michiru could do was laugh politely and say that the room would be fine.

"An early dinner will be served in an hour or so. You two make yourselves at home. Michiru-san, Haruka-chan would be glad to show you around the house as well. Yoko, they have their bags?"

The maid nodded. "We have them, mother," Haruka replied in a monotone.

"Then I supposed I'll send someone to find you when it's time to eat." The maid and mother then left the pair in the navy room, keeping the door wide open.

Michiru began to giggle. "Your mother seems like a nice woman. A bit strange, but not nearly as bad as you described."

Haruka sighed. "She's just nice because you're a guest. Plus, you look and act like her ideal daughter. Try living with her for years."

Laying her head on her lover's shoulder, Michiru surveyed the room they were in. Her room. She smiled at the thought of Haruka having to spend days sleeping in the flowery pink-filled bedroom down the hall. Gazing up at the other woman's set face, she asked a question.

"Haruka, where was your room when you lived here?"

"It's the room my mother has me in now, though she's gone and 'fixed it up'. Believe me, I wouldn't have lasted a week if it had been like that when I was thirteen."

"Hm. You'd think that she would keep it as you left it for when you come home. Ah well."

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Haruka looked down at Michiru. "Well, to my mother, it and the garage were the two flawed rooms in this perfect world of a house. Of course she'd want to fix it as soon as I left."

"Ah." Michiru hesitated, sensing Haruka's reluctance to discuss her childhood. "Maybe we should switch rooms. I don't think you can last even a day with that scent."

Haruka chuckled. "Only if you think you'll be all right with it."

"I can survive perfume shopping with Usagi for hours. I'll be fine with this, as long as I don't stay in there the whole time."

"Perhaps we should get unpacked then."

"How about after dinner? I'd like to see more of this perfect house so I don't get lost," Michiru explained.

"All right. Don't worry, I'll make sure you know where you're going." The pair left the bedroom, holding hands. Haruka softly shut the door behind them, and they padded down the carpeted stairs.

_((tbc))_


	5. Tablecloth

((Ohmygoodness, I updated.

Don't worry, it hasn't been half a year yet! Only…five months. Yeah…

But! It's summertime now, which means no school, which means **this shall get done soon!** My goal is to finish it before Christmas, since it is a wintery story, not something to be writing in June. Although, I did start it in August, didn't I?

Like I said, I'll get it done. And update more than every few months. I also have some other ideas I'm playing around with, including a Sailormoon fic using the other Sailor soldiers, Tokyo Mew Mew shoujo ai, and getting my SVU/Sailormoon crossover finished.

I can't use my little brackets anymore. Not cool.

Story by the one and only Michie.

They're not mine. But, I'm borrowing them. And I huggle them, put them in odd situations, and make up parents for them! Love-love!

Keep watching me! Leave me feedback! I love you all so very much!))

The layout of the house was quite interesting in its design. When you entered through the main doors, as Haruka and Michiru had, directly in front of your was the main staircase. This then led upstairs to two hallways running off in separate directions. To the left were the guest bedrooms, including the rooms occupied by the couple, as well as a few others. There were also a few storage closets, and at the end of the hallway were two smaller rooms where the maid, Yoko, and butler, Kouichi, lived for most of the year.

If, when going up the staircase, you decided to take a right, you would find yourself in a hallway with a single bedroom at the end. This was the room shared by Haruka's parents, a spacious, fancy place that was always kept in perfect order. Though Haruka had not been allowed inside as a child, she had snuck in on occasion, or Yoko had allowed her to explore while it was being cleaned. Features inside included huge closets filled with business suits and fancy dresses, a fountain, the soft, enormous bed with gold sheets that seemed to glow, and a bathroom with a tub big enough to fit five people. However, the decorations and details were horribly overdone, and though it was equipped with the best sheets and the best plumbing, the strange statues and pillows gave the place a fairy-tale feeling to it.

Leading from the second floor was a grand staircase. Ornate wood carvings adorned the railings, and soft, plush carped decorated the stair treads. Parts of the stairs themselves were stained glass, with images of flowers and birds, lit from behind.

Down the stairs from the bedrooms, you could continue walking straight ahead and find yourself at the heavy door the couple had entered though. But, if coming down the stairs you took a right, you would get to the "living" area of the house. There were several rooms on this half, including a library that seemed to only be for decoration except for a desk cluttered with business papers, a "sunroom" with an entire wall of glass, handmade wicker chairs and glass tables, and an entertainment room, with an amazing home entertainment system that included a colossal television, the most high-tech sound system, and Ten'ou Kenji's extensive video collection.

The kitchen, where Yoko assisted a private chef who came in three days a week, and the dining room, where the family ate when not entertaining, were also on that half of the house, but Haruka left those rooms out of the tour; Michiru would see them soon enough.

Finally, the last half of the house, the other part of the lower floor, was the area intended to host parties. A large ballroom took up most of that part; however, there was also a smaller banquet room with large closets that could be used to hold the coats of guests. The kitchen was connected to the ballroom by a hallway, so tables could be set up for food without having to carry it around the whole house.

The ballroom itself was spacious. Windows with heavy curtains that stretched to the ceiling covered a wall, and the floor was a glossy wood. Along the edges of two of the other walls was a raised, carpeted platform dotted with tables for serving dinner, separated from the dance floor by a railing. In one of the corners of the floor, a raised stage provided a performing area for live music.

And this was where Haruka's tour for Michiru had ended.

"Well, that's it. The house, I mean."

"Haruka…so, you grew up here? It's so big!" She smiled at her lover, walking across to the other side of the echoing room and taking a seat at one of the tables.

"And empty. Well, it seemed that way when I was here. So much room, useless, isn't it?" She smiled at Michiru. "I mean, the only time this half of the house is even filled is if there's a party.

"Didn't your parents say something about hosting a party here during our stay?"

"Yeah…hopefully, nothing too big. You know I'd like nothing more than to just slip away from all this and go home." Striding over to the other woman, Haruka draped her muscular frame across the railing in front of the table where the violinist sat.

"Haruka-san?" Timidly, Yoko peered around the corner of the doorframe, across the polished floor. "Your mother says dinner will be served in the dining room in about five minutes, so you may want to head over there and wash up."

After the maid had left, Haruka slumped to the floor and sighed. Her lover climbed over to her, bending down over her wilted frame.

"Ready for this?"

"I never will be, but I might as well get it over with, ne?"

The fancy wooden table was covered with a pristine white tablecloth, on which dozens of perfect foods were displayed. It had eight chairs set up, but the food was grouped at one end, showing that there would only be four eating those masterpieces tonight. Haruka settled down on the right side of the table, the one with the best view of the main staircase, though it wasn't much of a view at all. She leaned back in her chair, waiting for her parents and for Michiru, who had wandered upstairs to freshen up quickly before eating.

Hearing padding shoes on the white carpet, she lurched back to the ground, wooden chair legs falling back into place. In came her father, who wordlessly settled down at the head of the table and began surveying the meal laid out before him. Haruka sighed, rather loudly. He looked up.

"Oh! Haruka-chan, you've come down early."

"Yoko told us it was time to eat, so of course I'm here."

He gave his daughter a thin-lipped smile. "Shioko told me you were giving your pretty little friend a tour of the house. Where is she now?"

"_Michiru_ is upstairs; she'll be down soon. As for my mother, I have no idea."

"You don't have to be so cold to me. I am your father after all. Without me, how would you afford your lavish lifestyle?"

Anger rose up inside of the athletic woman; she pushed it away, though with much difficulty. "Did Mother not tell you? I've been without the support of either of you for years, and I am enjoying very much. My 'lavish' lifestyle, if that's what you can call it, has been self-earned."

The two sat in silence until the arrival of Shioko.

"Kenji! Haruka-chan! I'm surprised you two aren't catching up, after these years!"

The man gave the same false smile he had worn before to his wife. "We were just a little bit ago, Shioko. After all, we still have several days left to get to know each other again."

"Yes, yes. I suppose that's true…Haruka, where is Michiru-san?"

The racer began leaning back in her chair again, balancing precisely on the two polished legs. "Upstairs. She'll be down soon."

As if on cue, a refreshed but slightly rushed Michiru wandered into the room. Silently, she padded over to the last chair and took a seat next to Haruka.

"Ah…I'm sorry for that. This is such a gorgeous, big house, and I got a bit confused. I'm sorry for having kept you!"

Inwardly, Haruka smiled. Michiru wasn't one to have gotten lost, especially after the extensive tour. She had probably been a bit too long upstairs fixing her hair and had made up an excuse.

"Don't worry dear, it's all right. Now, shall we all eat?"

Without a word, Kenji picked up the bowl of potatoes in front of him and began to dish up. Seeing this, the rest of the table started in on their meals.

The meal progressed silently for a while, Michiru enjoying the exquisite meal, while her partner seated beside her picked at a small helping of meat on her plate. Shioko noticed this, as had Michiru, though while the violinist did her best to ignore it, Haruka's mother reprimanded her for this.

"Is it not to your liking?" she said suddenly, breaking the silence of silverware and plates.

"Hm? Ah, Mother, it's fine. We had food to eat on our way up here, so don't worry about me."

"Your friend seems to have a fine appetite, and I would assume you both ate at the same time." She was right. Michiru had finished her salmon and started on the green beans.

"Like I said, don't worry about me, Mother." The four fell back into quiet.

And after a bit, Haruka's father finished his meal. Settling back into his chair, he pulled out a newspaper, seemingly from nowhere, and began to read. Though this act seemed convincing enough, Michiru could see him sneaking looks over the top of it, at his daughter and wife, but mostly at her. Though definitely nervous, she tried to finish the meal quickly, so she could excuse herself.

Mealtime at the Ten'ou household was a different experience. Every time that Haruka could remember eating with her mother, the same pattern was followed. About twenty minutes of awkward, slow silence to eat in, which was then followed by a near-interrogation of the events of the day. As soon as her mother finished eating, she expected it to begin. Nothing else seemed to have changed in the years of her absence, and besides, Shioko seemed to find so much joy in the prying into others' lives.

Haruka was right. Approximately five minutes later, the lady of the house set her fork down, and leaned back into her chair. She smiled at her daughter, and, breaking the stillness, asked, "So what have you been doing these past years without us?"

Feigning surprise, the racer blinked at the question. "Ah, you're talking to me?"

The older woman sighed. "Yes, I am, Haruka. You should know when your mother is speaking to you, and answer my questions! Now, tell me about your life."

"What do you want to know? After moving out of your apartment, Michiru and I bought a house in the country with a friend, which is where we live today."

"It must not be too large of a house, with you not having a _real_ job and all. You would be happier if you moved closer to us, or better yet, you could live here."

"My happiness is my concern, Mother, but thank you for the offer."

More silence. Shioko turned to her next subject, the pretty young violinist.

"Ah, Michiru-san! What did you think of our meal?"

The girl gave a small smile back at her hostess. "It was quite lovely. I especially liked the fruit salad, and the salmon was very nice as well."

"You know, we have a cook who works in our kitchen three days a week…you'll have to tell me what you like to eat so we can prepare it for the party ahead. Haruka did tell you about that, didn't she? We were so happy to have her visiting us that we decided to host a small celebration. Our friends are worried about her, of course, having been out of touch for so long."

"I can assure you that she's been doing fine. I think I'm taking good care of her." Michiru smiled at her partner, who returned her gaze with an exasperated look.

Climbing up the grand staircase after the meal, the couple paused for a moment in the hallway before going their separate ways. Full of food and, in Haruka's case, unease, the pair hesitated a moment before speaking.

In a hushed tone, Haruka confirmed to herself, "This is going to be a long week."

"Oh…just give it your best. It's not even a full week, only five more days. We'll be home for Christmas."

"You heard my mother, questioning us like that! 'What have you been doing these past years without us?' And my father, staring at you like that…how can you take it?"

Michiru frowned. "So you noticed it too. All men like young women, but I'm your 'friend', and his guest! And his wife was right there!"

Shaking her head, Haruka explained. "My father's always been like that. It reached its worst a few years before I moved out. Some woman at his business accused him of raping her. There was this huge investigation, but they never arrested him or even brought him down to the police station. Everyone thinks that he bought them off, seeing how he has all of this money." She gestured to the lavish house around her. "They all tried to keep me from hearing about it, but I wasn't stupid when I was twelve." Letting out a harsh laugh, she slumped back against the wall.

"Ah…" Michiru didn't know what to say. She had though Haruka's father was, well, a creep, but to hear such a thing was even worse! "Do you think he did it?"

"I don't know what to think. It does seem like something he would do, but would he go that far? Either way, it's not bothering him now."

The sound of the stairs creaking behind them shattered the atmosphere. Whirling around, Haruka sighed with relief when she saw it was only the maid, Yoko. Leaning towards her lover, she whispered a quick good night and headed off farther down the hall to her room.

"What kind of people are these…?" Michiru mused to herself, as she headed off to bed as well. In the coming days, she would learn soon enough.

((tbc))


	6. Poetry

((Wow…two months and a nine-paged chapter later…!

Being kicked off the family computer isn't fun, but I suppose that when I got back on, all my ideas just sort of…burst out, and I got this: my longest chapter yet.

Story by the one and only Michie.

Haruka and Michiru aren't mine. I want them, though. The sexyfulness…

You'll notice in this that I've finally planned out their whole stay, and thus, the rest of the story. There will be surprises, though, many of which I don't even know about yet.

**Saun: **Oooh, thank you for all of the kind words. I love all of your stories and have much respect for; you are one of my favorite authors and your website(s) are quite nice as well!

**Pork:** You are brutally honest without really stating the point, aren't you? Not to worry! Michie loves constructive criticism. I know where you live…

**Haruka-Clone: **Ah yes, watch out for Haruka's father…he'll come into play more in the next few chapters. Right now, he's just "working". Right.

**Everyone else who left an anonymous review: **Thank you! Your kind words mean a lot to me! They keep me writing fan fiction

Read it, review it, and keep bothering me to write more!))

Curling up into herself and gathering the bedcovers around her, Michiru shivered. Though the room wasn't too big, the house was old and the heating system had to be at least slightly outdated. Of course, there was that extra factor of not having Haruka to keep her warm either. She smiled to herself. Though her lover was a late sleeper, somewhat restless, and shoved all of the covers onto her in summertime, Michiru couldn't help but love Haruka. She generally gave Michiru her space when she needed it, which was wonderful in itself.

Sitting up, she turned on the pink lamp next to the bed and pulled her watch out of the drawer. Glancing at it, she sighed. It was close to two in the morning. Softly, faintly, through the lacy curtains, she could see the moon reflecting off the calm snow. Flicking off the lamp, she crawled back into bed, trying to find the warm silhouette she had left behind.

Blinking open her eyes to the morning, Haruka stared at the ceiling above her. This wasn't her room. Nor was it the guest bedroom, where she occasionally spent the night. Memories of the previous evening fell onto her memory like a heavy weight, and suddenly, the day seemed significantly less promising. Groaning, she stumbled out of bed, where she was assaulted by the immediate cold.

Shrugging on the navy robe that had been brutally yanked from her suitcase, Haruka wandered her way out of the darkened room. Down the hall, she noticed that her companion's door was slightly ajar. Peering inside, the racer saw no sign of Michiru, though the bed was neatly made. Smiling to herself, Haruka wandered her way back to her room to put on her slippers.

At the sight of her messy bed, she flopped back onto the welcoming comforter. There was that ceiling again, white with slight lines where wet paint had once been. Not the soft blue of her own room, the private sanctuary for the lovers, not the dark lavender of her child's, where she would spend evenings reading stories of adventures and glory, or telling myths and legends about Greek goddesses and Egyptian pharaohs. And this was not even the pale yellow of the guest room, where she spend the night every once in a while, having been exiled from the comfort of her own bed by a moody and upset Michiru.

No, this was a new ceiling, a new place. This was no refuge, but an asylum that would drive her to insanity.

Light danced on the paint-streaks above her head. Morning. But how early? If Michiru was already awake, she should probably get up too. Nearly falling over as she stood up from the sudden rush of blood, Haruka stumbled down the winding staircase, gently pulling at her bathrobe to make sure it securely hid her pajama-clad figure.

It was just as she remembered from her childhood. The house was quiet, except for the soft clinking of dishes from the kitchen somewhere to her right. Her father was most likely at work, finishing up some business before his wife dragged him home for the holiday. Yoko was probably doing some quick dusting or finishing up dishes from the previous night, and Kouichi would be driving over soon. The butler spent December and June with his sister and her family, who lived about an hour away in the suburbs.

As for Haruka's mother, the racer could remember several morning events, any one of which could be happening on this winter day. Some days Shioko would be eating an early breakfast by herself, or with an occasional guest. Other days, the woman couldn't be found; Haruka guessed that she was taking a walk, had gotten a ride into town from the butler to do some early shopping (to "avoid the horrendous crowds"), or she had gone with her husband on one of his days off to a breakfast at some small café somewhere.

And sometimes, though rarely, Shioko slept in.

Wandering into the kitchen, Haruka searched around for some breakfast food. Yoko stood over the sink, scrubbing a pan vigorously, her face contorted in an unreadable expression. Flinging open cupboards, the young woman sought out a box of cereal, a packet of pancake mix, or perhaps even a loaf of bread and a toaster. Nothing.

"Yoko-san, what have you done with the breakfast food?"

"If you want, Haruka-san, I can make you something. An egg, perhaps, or some bacon?"

"No, that's all right. I just need to know where everything is, having not been here for as long as I have."

"I got rid of the cereal when you left; you were the only one who liked it. Your mother isn't fond of pancakes, but I do have some mix, if you'd like. There's plenty of bacon-"

"My father and his bacon," snorted Haruka.

"-and we have eggs, ham, sausage, plenty of bread…" The maid stopped her washing and looked up. "What will it be?"

"Ah…has Michiru had breakfast yet?"

Yoko smiled. "You two are more than just friends, aren't you?"

Taken aback by the sudden comment, Haruka didn't know how to respond. "Well…we…ah, I suppose you could…err, perhaps. Yes, actually, yes. Is it that obvious?"

Shaking her head and obviously amused, the maid answered. "I don't have a problem with it, my nephew is, well, like that too. You and Michiru-san do a rather well job of hiding it, but I suppose it's just with your parents being as strange as they are. The way you look at her, though, and the way she talks about you…I had my ideas. Seeing you upstairs last night confirmed it for me."

Haruka looked at the ground, grinning. "The way Michiru talks, I'm surprised my mother hasn't figured it out by now. Or my father, for that matter, with him being so…well-versed in the ways of women."

Yoko glanced up, sharply. "Ten'ou-san is a good man. He has his weaknesses, but doesn't everyone?" She wandered over to the refrigerator and took out a couple of eggs.

"Didn't you see him, staring at Michiru? And the allegations with that woman, years ago, and do you honestly believe he's working twelve hours on a Saturday? What about my mother?"

"What about your mother?"

"Doesn't she see it? Doesn't she care?"

Yoko took a moment before answering. "Shioko-san sees what she wants to see. Perhaps it's the way her lifestyle has made her, but in her mind's eye, your father is a devoted businessman and a loving husband, though sometimes he works more that necessary, and you're her sweet little girl who needs a bit of work, but will someday marry a rich, handsome fellow and make her proud. So, you see, I don't feel sorry for her. She's living in a fantasy she's created herself."

"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Haruka mused, "but how obvious must I make it, without telling her, that I'm _not_ going to be that little girl?"

"Even telling her wouldn't do it, it'll just be one of those "phases". She'll never give up on making you how she wants you to be. Eggs are done."

"Yoko-san, I told you I would make them! You didn't have to do that."

Scooping the white blobs onto a plate, the shorter lady sprinkled a bit of pepper on them, and handed them to Haruka. "Haruka-san, you've always been my favorite member of this family. I've known you since you were a little girl, and making a few more eggs for you isn't too much to ask." She reached up and gave the powerful woman in front of her a hug, which Haruka returned with her free arm.

"Ah…I suppose that's a good thing," the racer laughed quietly. "I can honestly say that it's been a pleasure talking to you. Now, to eat these without having to talk to my mother…" She strode out of the kitchen door.

Yoko called out from behind her. "Oh, Michiru-san did have breakfast already; I made her some eggs and toast. She loves talking about you, you know."

"What did you two talk about?" Haruka stopped and turned.

"I just wanted to know how you were doing, without me, you know," Yoko chuckled. As Haruka started out once more, she called to her again. "This Setsuna seems like a woman after my own heart."

Haruka got a good laugh out of that. It was true.

---

Just as she finished her eggs, Shioko found her.

"Haruka-chan! I was hoping you would be awake." She glanced down at her daughter's ruffled appearance. "And dressed…but ah well, that can come later. I have to give you the tour of the house!"

"Mother, I lived here for fifteen years. I know my childhood home."

"Oh, but I've _changed_ things!"

Quickly changing the subject, Haruka asked, "Where's Michiru right now?"

"That girl…" The elder Ten'ou woman beamed. "I showed her a bit of the gardens, but only what you can see from the inside of the house. It's much too cold to go outside. Then we had muffins and coffee, and she told me just a bit about your lifestyle. She seemed a bit reluctant to discuss some things…but, oh, I had no idea she was so successful!

"She had already eaten, she said, so after I gave her the tour of the house, I left her in the sunroom. Last I checked, she was reading some book with an odd title."

Leave it to Michiru to omit the details, though Haruka. "All right, what's the plan for today then? I suppose you have the whole week figured out, like you did when we took vacations?"

Not sensing her daughter's heavy sarcasm, the older woman started in on the agenda for the whole week. "Haruka-chan, you know your mother too well! But, five days isn't very much to plan. Today, we won't be doing much. I'll have my gardening club over for dinner, and I expect you and your lovely friend to join us."

"Mother, you don't _garden_." Haruka was clearly puzzled, but Shioko shushed her and continued with the explanation.

"As I said, not much to do. The next day, your father will have his card club over in the evening, while I start to plan out the party. You can play with them if you wish, but I do tend to avoid them; they get quite rough when they've been drinking, and can be quite rude. Not the best place for a young woman like yourself.

"The third day, I'll be finishing up the main planning for the party. If you'd like, you can help me with the catering company, the musicians, figuring out all of the little details and such. Otherwise, Kouichi has agreed to show Michiru around the gardens that day, and you're welcome to join them

"I've made your father get the next day off of work. He was upset, the poor man, said he planned to have his holiday vacation start Christmas Eve, but you know how he is, can't resist me." She sighed lovingly. "The three of us will go wherever you want. We want to get reacquainted with our little girl, you know!"

"Three? But, what about Michiru?"

"Ah, yes! Yes, I'd forgotten about her when I made the restaurant reservations. But, I'm sure she won't mind, being the sweet girl that she is. Perhaps I can leave her to hire the musicians…she certainly knows enough."

"I can't believe this. You're going to make her work on your party while we leave her to go have 'fun'?" Haruka exclaimed. "Why can't we change the reservations? We'll probably end up being at a table for four anyways."

Shioko's eye's flashed dangerously. "Haruka-chan, don't forget your mother always knows what she's doing. We haven't had a day alone with you for years, and it will turn out well. If you have to, I can talk to Michiru-san myself. Unlike you, she's a very well mannered young lady. Perhaps you could learn something from her.

"Now, to continue with our schedule. Where was I…ah! Of course, Christmas Eve will be the night of the party…during the day, though, I expect you to get all rested up. You can spend time with your friend then."

Haruka sighed, rather loudly. No one could ever explain anything to her mother when she had made up her mind.

"Oh, Haruka-chan, it should be so _magical_! I have to make sure to get the best of everything; it's been a while since you've been home and I want to make sure I make you feel welcome!"

"Mother, I don't think that hosting a huge celebration is the best way to do that…"

"So sweet, to be concerned about me! But don't worry, everything should go well. I've invited Nakamura-san, and his family, and Tanaka-san; he has a son just a little older than you. And of course, Shiroki-san, and little old Karina-chan!"

"Mother, the woman is over sixty! Must you refer to her like that?"

"Oh, I'm polite to her, of course. Your father has also invited most of his office, and several of his friends. All in all, perhaps over a hundred people. Perhaps more, if they bring their families…"

---

An hour later and after dressing herself, Haruka decided that she could wait no longer to go find Michiru, so she started off in the direction of the sunroom. Upon reaching the sunny, open space, she was greeted with the roar of Yoko's vacuum, but no Michiru.

Where had she gone? The racer checked both bedrooms, nothing. A quick glance into the kitchen yielded no one, and the ballroom was empty, echoing in its own misery. Finally, wandering around aimlessly, Haruka simply assumed that Michiru had gone for a walk on her own. She wasn't worried about her…well, perhaps just a little, she allowed herself to think. The violinist wasn't ignorant, just as she wasn't defenseless. A Sailor Soldier could take care of herself.

And by chance, Haruka passed by the open door of a nearby room, spotted a familiar slender form, and stopped.

The library! Haruka had forgotten about the library.

Michiru glanced up as her partner entered the dimly lit room. "Your family has quite a selection. _The Odyssey_, translated sonnets of Shakespeare, _Pride and Prejudice._ And this little volume right here." She held up a worn green-covered volume, English lettering fading on the front.

"Ah-! That's…"

"_Romeo and Juliet._ Perhaps the only volume in this collection that's been well read, and several times by the looks of it. I didn't know you liked romantic tragedies by English playwrights."

"I was learning English, and it looked better than _Gone With the Wind. _Not to mention that there's a Japanese translation somewhere in there too, which made it easier for me."

Michiru laughed, a melodious, graceful sound that brought a smile to Haruka's face. "Say what you want, Ten'ou Haruka. I know you too well."

"Too true." More laughter was cut short by a "personal" invitation to lunch by Haruka's mother, who had heard the noise and decided to investigate.

---

The rest of the day was uneventful. Michiru settled herself down into the library once again, this time with a volume of Robert Frost's poetry, while Haruka sat on the edge of her bed (now made neatly), pondering a fateful question.

What does one wear to a meeting of a gardening club with a membership of rich women who don't actually garden?

Pulling out her options and setting them on her bed, she took several factors into mind. What would her mother like her to wear? Of course, Haruka had no plans to wear a dress or even a skirt, but her suit should probably be saved for the party. She finally decided on a warm sweater and some nice khakis, an androgynous but tasteful outfit that would hopefully satisfy her mother but would keep herself happy as well.

At last, dinnertime was greeted by the ringing of a doorbell. Haruka awoke from her nap with a start, scrambling to put on the outfit in front of her, while Shioko frantically called up the stairs to her. "Haruka-chan! I want you to get the door! Haruka! Where are you?"

"Mother, I can't get it!" She pulled the pants onto her muscular legs, kicking her other ones into some distant corner of the room, then started on pulling off her shirt as quickly as possible.

"I can't possibly get it myself, what would they think? Where's Yoko-san?"

Yoko was nowhere to be found. The doorbell sounded again, almost with annoyance, but was ended with the sound of the heavy door creaking open, and pleasant exchanges of voices from the level below. Haruka took her time in putting on her navy sweater.

She took a deep breath before going down the stairs, and did so slowly and deliberately. Assuming she'd find her mother chatting with some of her friends at the bottom, she expected the worst. Instead, she found Michiru making small talk with two elderly women in fancy clothing, all while taking their coats and draping them over the wide banister. At Haruka's entrance, the three stopped and looked up at her.

"Who might this be?"

"Such a good looking young fellow! You must be the friend of Haruka-chan's that Shioko-chan was talking about!"

"I wonder how Kenji-san feels with such competition!"

Making her overly dramatic entrance, just as she had with the arrival of her daughter, Shioko warmly embraced her two visitors just as a few more came up the long walk and into the warm house.

"Shioko-chan, we were remarking about how much Haruka-chan has grown up. We couldn't even recognize her!"

Shioko smiled with false warmth. "She is certainly older."

"And look at this young man! Haruka-chan, you are a very lucky girl!"

Blinking, the elderly mother was suddenly confused. As the realization of the misunderstanding dawned on her, she shook her head rapidly. "No, no, no…I'm afraid you're mistaken…"

Michiru, sensing the problem as well, tried to introduce herself. "It seems I was rude and didn't make everything clear. I'm Kaioh Michiru, Haruka's…companion."

"Then where is Haruka-chan?"

Michiru gestured to the tall figure behind her. The five guests looked at each other in amazement, and then embarrassment. What would be the polite thing for them to say?

Finally, one spoke up. "Well, Haruka-chan, you certainly have grown up."

Trying to seem warm and cheerful, Haruka gave a generic thanks, and the group of women wandered into the dining room.

Dinner was an odd assortment of foods accommodating the special diets of several of the houseguests. Unlike the previous night, the meal was filled with sounds of conversation to go along with the clinking of dishes and glassware.

A few of the women had known Haruka as a girl, and prodded her with questions that all had variations on the same answer. No, she wasn't married. Of course she didn't have children (a lie, but for Hotaru's own good). She had finished high school, but wasn't currently in college. Eventually, the conversation turned to the upcoming party, and away from Haruka.

After some time, Yoko appeared in the doorway. Glancing up to her, Shioko gave a thin smile. "It appears that we're all done eating here, so if you wouldn't mind, Yoko-san, could you clear the table?" It wasn't a question so much as it was an order.

Giving a curt nod, the maid began stacking the plates and silverware into a pile. With so many people, this stack became quite large, and heavy at that. Managing it with practiced ease, she lifted the first section of plates with a worn hand, and took a few more in the other.

"Ah, Yoko-san, let me help you with those." Michiru reached out, and carefully gripping the fine dishes, she followed the older woman into the kitchen.

"Haruka-chan, what is she doing?" A horrified Shioko stared at her daughter, and several of the other women looked shocked.

"You mean Michiru? Helping with the dishes, exactly how it looks."

"But…such a fine young woman, and my guest, shouldn't be doing dishes! Yoko can do them herself just fine!"

"It's not a problem for Michiru, I'm sure. She does the dishes at our house every night, so she knows what she's doing."

"You mean you don't have a maid? And she made it sound like you two were well off!" Shaking her head slowly, she continued. "I won't allow her to do this to herself." Standing up, she peered into the kitchen. "Michiru-san, dear, you really don't have to do that. Why don't you come sit back out here with the rest of us?"

The violinist glanced at Yoko. "I hope I didn't offend you. The job just looked like it would go faster if someone helped, and I wasn't doing anything."

"Ah, Michiru-san, you're a wonderful girl, and I appreciate the help. But, you'd better get out there, so the guests don't become even more offended." She put on a small smile. "Take good care of Haruka-san this week; make sure she doesn't kill her mother."

Michiru laughed. "Oh, I'll try, but you know Haruka…"

((tbc))


End file.
